


Underneath the Mistletoe

by Claranon



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Appearances by the rest of the gang as well, Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Or the Erdrea equivalent anyway, Post-Canon, Sneaking this in before 2020 when I am legally forced to never make Hendrik suffer again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:08:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21692812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claranon/pseuds/Claranon
Summary: Sir Hendrik dreads the Winter Solstice season for one reason and one reason alone: the mistletoe that the castle ladies persist in trying to trap him under. With Princess Jade’s help, can he finally escape the holidays unscathed—and unsmooched?
Relationships: Graig | Hendrik/Marutina | Jade
Comments: 17
Kudos: 55





	Underneath the Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anytaintedcreature (wrongwayco)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrongwayco/gifts).



> I’ve written Christmas-y fic for all my _other_ fandoms, so why not this one too? Happy holidays, everyone! I hope they treat you and yours well (and even if not, there’s always DQXI to cling to).
> 
> Special thanks to [atc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrongwayco/) who flies the Jade/Hendrik flag strong and true. <3

From frost-glazed windows to bedecked halls, bustling kitchens to singing carolers, crackling fires to festive greetings—everything in Heliodor Castle pointed to the imminence of Winter Solstice, and Sir Hendrik was absolutely _miserable_.

It was not that he contemned the general _idea_ of the holiday season; indeed, he saw much worth in an occasion that merrily marked the passing of one year to the next and offered respite from the drudgery of winter. As well, this was the first Solstice since Princess Jade’s return and it filled his heart with gladness to see the dual delight of father and daughter as they feasted on sweets and laughed over remembered traditions. The king had expressed a desire to make restitution for the years of Mordegon’s austerity, and Hendrik had never seen the castle—or its people—filled with such cheer. After sixteen difficult years marked by loss and heartache, the celebrations had been well-earned.

No, his contention was with _one_ adornment in particular: namely, the sprig of mistletoe strategically hung directly outside his quarters.

He stood outside his door and scowled up at it for a full minute; then, after carefully checking to ensure the hallway’s vacancy, made an attempt to leap to the ceiling. His fingers just barely grazed the foliage but fell short of their goal, and he landed on the stone floor with a thud. Hendrik gritted his teeth and tried again—equally ineffectively.

“What in the world are you doing?”

Princess Jade’s curious voice came from directly behind him and the knight almost toppled over as he spun in place. A flush raced up his neck at the sight of her, which he instantly attributed to his embarrassment and certainly not in _any_ respect to the loveliness of her face, figure, or the gracefulness of her comportment.

“Y-Your Highness!” Hendrik jerked into a bow and made some show of smoothing out his tabard. “I was...merely attempting to—to rearrange some several of the holiday decorations. Truly, the...steward took little care for the lesser-travelled halls.”

He held his breath and waited for her response, sending a quick prayer to Yggdrasil that She might spare him the inevitable mockery that would follow if the princess devised his _true_ aim.

The World Tree was not merciful that day. Princess Jade frowned and absently adjusted the sleeve of the spectacular scarlet gown she wore; then her eyes rose to the ceiling and Hendrik’s stomach plummeted right alongside them.

“Oh, now I see,” she said as a heart-stopping smile spread across her face. “Is that really _still_ going on?”

Hendrik’s shoulders sagged. “Lamentably yes, Princess.”

It had begun in his seventeenth year. A growth spurt—combined with his sprouting facial hair—had seemed to drive the female inhabitants of the castle to unaccountable madness. Everywhere he had turned, tittering maids and preening noblewomen had plagued his very existence with their indecorous flirtations. Jasper had also received no small amount of his own attention, but his charming rejoinders were a far cry from Hendrik’s fiercely blushing stammering.

Worst of all had been the Solstice season. Hendrik had never before paid much attention to the festive trimmings of the holiday, but he had found himself suddenly forced into avid surveillance in his efforts to avoid the dreaded mistletoe that almost _littered_ the hallway ceilings. He had been young and maladroit then and had endured near to a dozen enthusiastic osculations before the festivities had passed. A young Princess Jade had joined with Jasper in laughing uproariously at his plight, and Hendrik had vowed then and there that he should never again be caught in such an unseemly predicament. 

A vow that, to his utter despair, he had been required to uphold in each successive year. The ladies of Heliodor Castle—far from losing interest or resolve—appeared keener than ever to employ their canny stratagems in hopes of ambush or entrapment. And so, Hendrik had come to look upon Winter Solstice not as a time of cheer or reprieve, but as a battlefield on which he waged war against the fairer denizens of the castle proper.

The mistletoe directly outside his quarters was a new development, however—and he could not but see it as an opening volley requiring swift reprisal. He was pulled from dark thoughts of counteroffensives by the princess’s speaking once more.

“Poor Sir Hendrik, battling as fiercely for his honour as he ever did against the fiends of Erdrea,” she said with what must _assuredly_ be false sympathy. Her gaze returned to his and he could see the amusement glimmering within her violet eyes.

“Princess—” he protested in a futile effort to fend off his inevitable demise by humiliation.

“You really should have thought the better of it before you came along with us to save the world,” she continued relentlessly. “I’m surprised they’re not _already_ queueing up to have a chance at capturing the Hero of Heliodor’s elusive lips.”

“Your Highness, _please_.” His eyes squeezed shut and he sent off yet another prayer, hoping that Yggdrasil might for once take pity on Her most wretched of children.

There was the sound of laughter—more restrained than in the days of yore, but _oh_ how much more enthralling—and he felt the light press of a hand on his arm. His eyes flew back open.

“Oh, I’m only joking,” Princess Jade told him, more affectionate now than teasing. “Even after all these years, it’s comforting to know that some things never change.”

Hendrik’s heart thumped inside his chest at her touch, and he had only a moment to wildly determine precisely _how_ much disquiet he could endure for the sake of his princess’s contentment when she again interrupted his thoughts.

“Now,” she said brusquely, “I think it’s clear that even with _your_ unreasonable height, it’s not coming down that easily. I can help you out there.”

He blinked; he had witnessed many examples of the princess’s vaulting herself in the air with her impressive kicks, but surely her gown restricted such movement as was necessary to—

Princess Jade held out her other hand and made an impatient gesture at him. “Well, Hendrik?”

“I...fear I do not take your meaning,” he frowned.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, _lift me up_ so I can reach it.”

“I most certainly shall _not!_ ” he exclaimed, shocked to the core. The very ideals of propriety and good decorum rebelled against such a scandalous idea; heaven help him if he _were_ to indulge it and a servant happened to pass by.

But even as he objected, he found his gaze helplessly dropping to her figure, lingering on the slender curves of her waist and assessing how easily his hands could span it. His flush, lying dormant beneath his skin, shot into prominence once more and his mouth had gone strangely dry.

Rather than a continuance of the mockery that so seemed to delight her, the princess merely tilted her head at him. Her expression was indecipherable and her eyes searched his for a long moment.

“That’s your choice, I suppose,” she said at last. “I could go fetch a stepladder, if you’d like.”

An image sprang into Hendrik’s head of his perching precariously on a ladder to remove a harmless sprig of mistletoe. If seen, it would cause nearly as much uproar as putting his hands on her royal person—he would be the laughingstock of the barracks for _weeks_.

“That will not be necessary,” he declared with a shake of his head. “I shall...yet devise some alternate means of neutralizing the threat.”

The smile came back to her face, so enchanting that the breath caught in his throat.

“I’m sure you will, General Hendrik,” she replied, finally removing her hand from his arm; Hendrik attempted most earnestly to convince himself that he did not mourn the coolness left in its wake. “After all, what have your years of training even been _for_ if not to prepare you for this most crucial of campaigns?”

_There_ was the teasing lilt once more. At a loss for a response, Hendrik made her another bow. “As...as you say, Your Highness.”

“I should probably go speak with my father before the audience this evening.” Princess Jade threw him a wave as she turned and began to walk away. “Good luck with your planning, Hendrik.”

“And to you!” the knight called after her, before he realized how foolish that sounded and the blush returned full-force. He cleared his throat and looked up to the mistletoe once more.

Luck; yes, he had a sneaking suspicion that he would need all that could _possibly_ be spared.

* * *

Hendrik was swiftly proven correct on that score. 

Distracted by an incident report the following morning, he had his hand on the doorknob and was about to leave his quarters when some instinct halted him mid-action. It was not a moment too soon: he heard the brushing of a broom on the tiled floor and knew with instant certainty that the downstairs maid loitered just outside the doors. He _had_ thought it peculiar the way she had looked at him with calculating interest the night before, but he had never suspected the depths of her guile. Hendrik was forced to wait with agonized impatience until she finally left, and arrived at his appointment with the king with only minutes to spare.

There was little reprieve for him later on in the day, either. After lunch, he had intended on returning to his room to compose a letter to Don Rodrigo concerning his visit after the Solstice. When he entered the corridor, however, he spotted the lady Citrine—a young noblewoman of some twenty-five years—standing directly in front of his door with an anticipatory look on her face.

Hendrik gaped at her for one dismayed moment before he spun on his heels and marched back through the doorway. He spent the afternoon in the stables instead, brushing Obsidian’s coat with scowling vigour until the horse finally expressed his displeasure with a hoof at his master’s knee. Hendrik doubled over in pain and shot his mount a glare, but there was a dearth of sympathy in the beast’s gaze.

Striding back to his quarters to change for supper, his stormy mood darkened considerably to find the lady _still_ dawdling in the hall. He ducked into the shadows of the archway only moments before she glanced in his direction. Thoroughly fed up, he was about to go over to her—a cautious distance away from the mistletoe—and deliver a cutting and altogether unchivalrous remark, when salvation descended in a _most_ pleasing form.

“Ah, Lady Citrine!”

Hendrik and the lady’s heads both swivelled towards the voice. Princess Jade walked over from the opposite corridor with a secret smile on her face.

“I’ve been looking all over for you!” she exclaimed brightly. “I find myself in quite the dilemma as to what shoes to pair with my gown for supper tonight, and I _know_ your taste simply cannot be matched.”

“Oh, well, that’s very kind of you, Princess Jade,” the lady replied, clearly flattered.

The princess hooked her arm through Citrine’s and not-so-gently tugged her forward. “Please, you _must_ come straightaway to fix this before I make a terrible fashion faux pas. There isn’t a moment to lose.”

“But—” Lady Citrine’s eyes flicked over to the archway and the knight made valiant attempt to squeeze himself further into the shadows.

Hendrik had on _many_ occasions borne witness to his princess’s inexorable resolve, and this proved no exception. “Come along, Citrine!” she said with cheerful finality, and the lady reluctantly— _miraculously_ —began to leave.

Princess Jade paused a moment before she followed, and looked unmistakably toward Hendrik’s hiding spot. She winked at him—causing his heart to skip several beats—and then was gone.

He left out a long breath and shook his head. Even if the ladies of Heliodor Castle seemed more determined than ever to take advantage of his stern principles, at least he had _one_ ally in his corner.

An ally he sorely needed as the season marched on and his opponents grew more desperate in their attacks. Hendrik found himself on repeated occasions both stranded in _and_ barred from his quarters, and he chafed at the waste of hours incurred. His distraction grew to such heights as to cause laxity in his surveillance of _other_ sprigs of that infernal foliage, and he nearly walked straight underneath one in the library before catching himself in time. He could have sworn that the eager bookkeeper’s lips had already been puckered when he made his hasty excuses and fled the scene.

The princess looked on the situation with an _entirely_ confounding amusement, but she did prove exceedingly helpful in acting as a diversion and granting reprieve in his most dire hours. She waved off Hendrik’s stuttered thanks with a smile, and he stood in awe of the selflessness of her friendship.

Finally, after an excruciating afternoon during which he made _five_ separate attempts to return to his chambers only to be stymied by a maid, a cook, a groom, the castle seneschal, and two noblewomen incomprehensibly _quarreling_ over their right to the position, Hendrik had had enough.

It was the early hours of morning when he arose from his bed and crept across the floor on silent feet. He pressed an ear to the door and held his breath, listening for any telltale shuffling or the murmur of fabric. Satisfied that the corridor was deserted, he grabbed the stepladder he had earlier stowed away and slowly turned the doorknob.

His assessment had been correct: the castle halls were dim and quiet and by all accounts entirely empty. He carefully unfolded the ladder and placed it upon the floor, wincing at the sharp sound of the legs scraping across the tile.

Hendrik had no sooner mounted the first step, eyes fixed on his nemesis hanging above him, when a voice broke through the stillness: “I can’t say I’ve ever seen a sight quite like _this_ before.”

The legs of the ladder teetered ominously as the knight desperately attempted to keep from sprawling onto the floor below.

“Your Highness!” he gasped when finally assured of his balance, if not his dignity. His head jerked up to behold Princess Jade before him, wrapped securely in a dressing gown and gazing at him with laughter in her dark eyes. “How...how came you to be in the corridors at this hour?”

She held up the small basket of baked goods she carried, doubtless pilfered from the kitchens. “A late night craving. I was just on my way back when I heard the noise and came to investigate.”

Hendrik coughed into his fist. “I...merely thought it time to take matters into my own hands, Princess.”

“And your own feet, it seems.” Her free hand went to her chin and a sly smile came across her face. “You’ll break more than few hearts doing this, you know. There’s actually a betting pool going on about who finally manages to corner you. The promised rewards for the winner have reached quite an impressive state.”

The whitening of his knuckles on the ladder rivalled only the heat that raced across his skin. “ _What?_ ” he sputtered in outrage. “I cannot believe that such acts of—of unscrupulous, disgraceful _gambling_ could possibly be occurring inside the very walls of this—”

“Oh, let the people have their fun, Hendrik,” the princess interrupted with a roll of her eyes. “It’s the holidays.”

Her brow then furrowed as her gaze swept over the ladder and the knight both. “And besides...I’m not altogether sure that rickety thing will hold your weight. Are you certain this is safe?”

“Not altogether,” he admitted. “But nevertheless, my course is set before me.” Grim resolve replaced the flush as he raised his boot once more.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Here—” She thrust the basket at him and Hendrik accepted it automatically, stepping away to make room for her even in his confusion. The princess faced the ladder and he saw her pause as she made a quick assessment; then, after taking a deep breath, she began to climb.

“Princess, if you are not certain of your own security in this path before you—” he began, keenly aware of her discomfort with heights.

“I’ll feel a lot _more_ secure if you don’t interrupt me,” she gritted out, and he fell silent.

The princess soon attained the top of the stepladder and carefully stood upon it with her slippered feet. Hendrik could see even in the darkness of the hall that she was well within reach of the mistletoe, and he unconsciously held his breath as she stretched her hand out and her fingers brushed the dark leaves.

It happened so quickly that he was nearly too late in his reaction. Overextending herself the slightest inch, the ladder wobbled ominously and then gave way beneath her weight. Princess Jade let out a shriek as she tumbled off the top and plummeted through the air towards the stone floor. Without thinking, Hendrik tossed the basket aside and lunged to catch her. She landed in his arms with an _oof_ and he felt the desperate scrabble of hands clinging to his neck and her hitched breath against his skin.

“Princess! Are you unhurt?” the knight asked anxiously. She let out a shuddering sigh and he unconsciously tightened his hold around her; for such an indomitable force of will and determination, she felt very fragile in his arms just then.

“Yes, I—I’m perfectly well—I _think_ —” Princess Jade gasped out. She turned to look up at him and he saw a trembling smile on her face. “But more importantly, I’m also _victorious_.”

She pulled one hand back to show him the sprig of mistletoe clutched tightly in her fist.

“Ah,” he said in his relief, not having looked forward to _either_ of them attempting such a perilous ascent again. “I cannot thank you enough for your sacrifice, Princess.”

“Well, it wasn’t any worse than that dreadful place we went to fight Calasmos, at least,” she acknowledged with a huff of laughter.

Hendrik suddenly became _acutely_ aware of the hand that yet remained at his neck, the princess’s fingers almost absently stroking the skin just above his collar. The whisper of her touch left goosebumps in its wake and his heart began to race once more.

“I, er...” Words seemed to have deserted him—most especially when she tilted her head and her gaze seemed to soften immeasurably. “I...that is...”

“Careful, Sir Hendrik,” she said in a low voice that sent a thrill down his spine. “If the ladies of the castle hear about your penchant for late night rescues, they’ll _all_ be out here with flimsy stepladders.”

He swallowed hard, unable to tear himself away from her beautiful face. “I...I think it unlikely that the castle contains such...numbers of ladders to supply the endeavour...”

Princess Jade’s lips curved even further, stealing the very breath from his lungs, and she was about to speak when suddenly her eyes widened. “The basket!”

Hendrik staggered back as she scrambled out of his arms and immediately dropped to the floor, searching desperately for the biscuits and tarts she had so enthusiastically filched. He heard her make a mournful noise upon beholding their smashed appearance on the hard floor, only a single treat still contained within the basket.

“I apologize, Your Highness,” he said contritely. “I was unable to ensure its safety before seizing you.”

“I _suppose_ you made the right call,” the princess sighed, and he was not a little perturbed by the hint of doubt in her voice.

Then she rose from the floor and dusted off her dressing gown. “We’ll have to get a broom and pan to sweep up the mess. But first—”

The knight started when she grabbed his hand and began to pull him down the hallway towards the kitchens. “Princess, what is the meaning of this?”

“I told you I had a craving that simply _cannot_ be ignored, Hendrik.” She flashed him a smile over her shoulder. “The least you can do after so recklessly destroying my spoils is to help me gather new ones. I’ll even throw a cup of tea into the bargain.”

With only the mildest of protests, Hendrik let himself be tugged along by his impetuous princess. They spent a pleasant hour together snacking and conversing in the light of the banked cookfires, and he found himself relaxing for the first time in a week, the adornment that had so plagued his existence tucked somewhat impishly into Princess Jade’s hair.

When he later bid her good night and settled down in his bed, it was with a light heart and renewed hope for the future—as well as the fervent wish that the early morning snack would be kinder to his digestion _this_ time than on occasions past.

* * *

The days flew by without further incident and before Hendrik knew it, Winter Solstice was upon them. He awoke that morning to an unusual sight in temperate Heliodor: a blanket of snow had fallen in the night, transforming the castle grounds into a magical wonderland. He stirred up the fire and dressed quickly in his eagerness to wish the royal family their due happiness in the new year.

Which was not his _only_ reason for anticipation, truth be told; once he was ready, he made sure to retrieve the wrapped parcel from underneath his bed and carried it securely under his arm as he left his quarters.

Hendrik found Princess Jade in the breakfast room. A smile came upon him to see her at the window, her hands and face pressed against it in a uniquely un-ladylike manner.

“I would counsel that the views are much more pleasing from the _eastern_ wing of the castle, Princess,” he advised her.

She whirled about and he felt a surge of satisfaction in having been the one to surprise _her_ for a change; but rather than the embarrassment that usually characterized his reactions, she merely returned the smile.

“Happy Solstice, Hendrik,” she said, an undercurrent of excitement in her voice. “Can you believe it? I can’t remember the last time it snowed in Heliodor.”

“It is a rare occurrence indeed,” the knight acknowledged. He took a deep breath and started to bring the parcel out from behind his back. “And Happy Solstice to you as well, Your Highness. If...if I could but spare a moment of—”

But the princess had already turned back to the window and was speaking on; Hendrik’s mouth snapped shut and the parcel once more jerked behind himself.

“I do hope it won’t make trouble for us on the road, though,” she continued in a more worried tone. “Perhaps we _should_ have accepted that invitation for a Zoom. I just didn’t want to bother him when he’s spending time with his family.”

“Despite the unusual conditions, Heliodorian horses are well trained in navigating diverse types of weather,” Hendrik assured her. “I foresee no difficulties.”

He cleared his throat and his hands twitched on their bundle. “But aside from that matter, Princess, I—”

“If you’re wondering where Father is, he had a few last-minute instructions for the cooks before the feast at noon,” the princess _again_ interrupted him, and Hendrik’s teeth ground together in anxious impatience. She left the window and returned to the breakfast table where a cup of tea sat in her usual place.

One of her hands made a gesture at a free chair. “Won’t you join us this morning? I’m certain my father wouldn’t mind.”

“I...I would be honoured, Princess,” he said with sincerity. “But before I do, there is something I wish to—”

“It isn’t lacking in filial duty for us to be leaving after the feast, is it?” Princess Jade wondered then, stirring her tea distractedly. “I know that Father said it was all right—and I really do want to see everyone again—but it’s my first Solstice back home and I can’t help but feel...well, rather guilty over the whole thing.”

Hendrik’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment and he took in a chestful of air to steady himself.

“No, Your Highness,” he replied with some strain. “I am certain that the king does not mind. He understands the depth of the bonds that tie us and our comrades together.”

Her lips curved as she looked up at him. “The swords and shields and unswerving companionship and whatnot?”

Then her eyes narrowed. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the parcel he attempted to conceal behind his back.

All at once Hendrik’s pulse began to thud inside his chest and he found his throat gone painfully dry. The moment of revelation had come, and his confidence about the suitability of the gift had vanished as entirely as the grass beneath the freshly-fallen snow.

“It is...in truth, it is your Solstice present, Your Highness,” he said, proud of his control over the tremor that threatened to escape him.

The princess blinked. “Oh,” she said after a moment. “I...thought we weren’t exchanging gifts.”

Hendrik valiantly attempted not to wilt in the face of such swift rebuke. “I understand that that is what our friends had decided, but I felt—it seemed appropriate to mark the occasion of your first Solstice in Heliodor in sixteen—I could not help but wish to—”

That time he cut _himself_ off before he choked on his own tongue’s twistings—a matter made all the more difficult when Princess Jade rose from her chair and approached to a closer distance than she had since the night she had quite literally fallen into his arms.

“May I?” she asked softly, holding out a hand. Nearly vibrating with his anxious apprehension, Hendrik gave her a stiff nod and passed over the parcel.

As she immediately tore into the wrapping paper, a smile would have come over him at the shine of delight in her gaze had he not been so breathless in his anticipation. The princess had always been fond of presents, and it was one of the several reasons he had been so determined to procure one for her this Solstice. What he could _not_ have predicted, however, was the type and extent of her reaction.

“H-Hendrik,” she whispered, her eyes going impossibly wide as she peeled back the paper with trembling fingers. “Hendrik, how...however did you...”

His heart twisted in his chest to see a shimmering of tears fill her eyes. She dashed them with the back of her hand, seeming not even to wish her gaze torn away for the space of a blink.

It was a modest-sized portrait, suitable for a private gallery or sitting room decor. In it were three figures: the woman sitting with a cooing baby in her arms and a gentle smile on her face, and the red-ribboned girl standing at her shoulder. The pride she felt over her newly-attained status of ‘big sister’ shone clearly out from the paint and canvas.

“I...I recalled your excitement about the portrait sitting before the night that Dundrasil...” Hendrik swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat before continuing. “I commissioned an artist in Gondolia and consulted with Lord Robert in its creation. He assured me that the result is very much what the original would have looked like, had it ever been blessed to see the light of day.”

He paused then, uncertain what more to say in the face of the princess’s impassioned reaction, so far from her usual composure. “Does...does it please you, Your Highness?”

She huffed a tearful laugh. “Does it _please_ me—”

Hendrik had only a moment’s warning before the princess had set the portrait down and flung herself into his arms. He took a startled step back, bracing himself on his heels to maintain his balance. Princess Jade’s slender arms clung tightly about his torso and she buried her face in his chest. He was vaguely aware of the feel of wetness seeping through the fabric of his shirt but could not bring himself to care. Hesitantly, he brought his own arms up around her, hardly able to believe his own audacity.

“Yes, Hendrik, it very much _does_ please me.” The princess laughed again, her voice muffled by his shirt. “I honestly thought you were going to give me a new set of _claws_.”

“That...” It was difficult to speak over the frantic thumping of his pulse in his ears. “That, in truth, was my second choice.”

Morning sunlight glittered upon them through frosted windows as they stood together in that embrace. Hendrik found himself holding his breath for fear of shattering the moment, his arms tightening ever so slightly around his princess; she was delicate and she was indestructible and she was more precious than all the gold and jewels that had ever existed.

If it had been anyone _but_ the king who entered the room then, Hendrik would have found himself with darkly censorious thoughts against them. As it turned out, however...

“Jade, I apologize for the—”

The king paused as his knight and daughter jolted apart. His bushy eyebrows rose high on his face. “I do hope I am not interrupting anything?”

“Of course not, Father,” the princess replied, swiping at her eyes one last time and smoothing out her skirt.

She had regained her poise with an admirable haste, but Hendrik yet struggled to catch his breath. It was true that there _had_ been nothing to interrupt—only a princess showing appropriate gratitude to her family’s retainer—but still his thoughts seized on the adamance of that ‘of course not’, twisting it over and over again in his head.

“Ah. Very well.” The king continued in from the doorway and took his customary seat at the table. “Now, shall you be joining us, Hendrik?”

“Yes, I...it would do me the greatest honour,” his knight responded hoarsely. Father and daughter wore identical looks of satisfaction at his agreement and the morning continued apace.

The traditional feast took place at noon. The Banquet Hall was decorated with all the splendour of the holiday season and Hendrik almost found himself enjoying the occasion despite the inanities of conversation he was forced to endure. The sound of music and caroling filled the hall and he attended to it most closely; better that than stealing the thousandth glance at his princess, magnificent in her green velvet gown with the brilliant necklace her father had gifted her adorning her throat. 

Soon enough it was over, and while the various nobles and servants looked forward to the remainder of the day’s leisurely pursuits, Hendrik and Princess Jade instead prepared for their journey.

“Ready to go?” she asked as they led their horses outside of the castle walls. The white fields of Heliodor stretched out before them underneath the afternoon sun. It was not a cold day, and Hendrik had hopes that the roads would prove easier for riding than she had feared.

He nodded. “By your leave, Your Highness.” They mounted their horses, made the necessary adjustments to their packs, and then set off.

The sun had just crested below the horizon when they clattered through the small cave at Cobblestone’s entrance and into the town proper. The rocky cliffs surrounding the village had done little to spare it from the night’s snowfall, and large drifts had formed beside the picturesque huts and cabins. After handing their horses off to the girl who ran the stables, they trekked up to the warmly-lit house at the top of the hill.

“Well, it’s about time!” was their first greeting upon entering the cheery cottage.

“Happy Solstice to you too, Veronica,” Princess Jade said with a smile, stamping her boots on the mat and shucking off her fur cape. “Sorry we’re late—the feast went on a bit longer than I’d anticipated.”

As Hendrik followed behind her, he saw that the main room was crowded with figures in various stages of relaxation: from the practically torpid—Lord Robert lounging in a chair with a plate of biscuits beside him—to the excitable—Sylvando, Serena, and Gemma immersed in what seemed an engrossing card game—to the generally disgruntled—Erik’s scowling at Veronica for some slight doubtless given just before their arrival. The Luminary’s mother bustled about by the stove and the Luminary himself was perched on his and his partner’s bed studying a scrap of parchment.

“Feast, eh?” remarked Lord Robert wistfully. “Och, I well remember the bounty of a good Heliodorian Solstice spread.”

He then patted his substantial stomach. “But it must be said that Amber’s cooking is a mighty fine replacement indeed.”

“Ooh, always the charmer you are, Mr Rab,” the woman chuckled, somehow managing to stir three separate pots at once.

There was a flurry of greetings and hugs and hearty handshakes amongst the group as they basked in the renewal of the love and camaraderie that bound them all so tightly together. They made an attempt at gathering at least once a month when schedules aligned, but Hendrik felt there was yet something special about sharing in the hope and joy of the holiday with steadfast comrades at his side.

“Happy Solstice to everyone,” he declared. “The king sends his best wishes to you all, and bid me invite you to Heliodor whenever time or occasion permits.”

Sylvando pressed one finger to his cheek and his face turned shrewd. “We might just have to take you up on that, honey. I think a little birdie told me that _someone’s_ birthday is coming up next month. The big forty, isn’t it?”

“ _Thirty-seven_ ,” his friend gritted out, hands twitching as the other man hooted and prudently danced out of reach.

“Now, now, I won’t be having scuffles in the middle of my house,” Amber admonished them, and Hendrik instantly felt a rush of chagrin at his boorish behaviour. “If you’ve all got energy to burn, take it outside, if you please.”

“Not a bad idea,” the princess mused as she knelt down beside Sandy on the floor and scratched the delighted dog’s belly. “I haven’t played in the snow in ages.”

“You seriously want to go out in _that?_ ” Erik asked. “There’s a reason I moved _away_ from Sniflheim, you know.”

Gemma looked up from her cards. “Cor, but it’s not _too_ cold outside right now, is it? There might be something to what Princess Jade says.”

Lord Robert sniffed at the air and rubbed his hands together. “Well, we can sort out the details _after_ we’ve indulged in the delicious vittles that Amber so thoughtfully made for us.”

There was not space enough to sit at the table for the meal, so they all spread out around the room instead with their plates in their laps. Hendrik found himself sitting with the twins and was soon engaged in an earnest conversation about books. Though their preferred genres somewhat differed, it proved a pleasant enough discussion.

“I thought Mia was supposed to be joining us,” he heard the princess say from across the room, sitting cross-legged between the thief and the Luminary. “She's over a lot more since you moved in, isn’t she?”

Erik spread his hands out, his fork tilting precariously from one of them. “She was here this morning, but she wanted to head back to the Academy for some late night scavenger hunt they do every year. I tell you, that girl just _loves_ her shinies. You should’ve seen her face when she opened up the bag of mini medals I gave her for Solstice.”

“Speaking of Solstice gifts, how did ye like the portrait, lass?” Lord Robert managed to get out in between cramming hunks of steaming bread into his mouth.

Princess Jade turned to the old man, and Hendrik’s heart was touched by the quiet affection he saw in her eyes. “It was absolutely perfect. Hendrik told me that you had a hand in it as well—thank you both so much.”

“Och, it was the least I could do after all those years that ye put up with me,” the former king told her fondly. Then his mustache curled. “Although, if ye’re of a mind to show proper gratitude in return, my subscription to the Ogler’s Digest _is_ expiring in a month or two.”

“Excellent idea,” she shot back. “I could probably even get a bulk discount by ordering one for each of you.”

Hendrik choked on his spoonful of soup and Veronica was forced to thump him on the back until he recovered. When his head lifted again, the princess was looking over at him with a mysterious smile on her face before she turned back to her conversation.

After Amber had left to bring the leftovers to the mayor’s house and the party had cleaned up the dishes—which involved a loud argument about proper drying techniques until Serena settled it by simply Wooshing the water away—their attention turned to the evening’s pursuit.

“Cards,” Sylvando said promptly.

“Reading aloud,” suggested Serena.

“Charades—but _only if_ I’m not paired with Hendrik again just because you all think our size difference is so _hilarious_ ,” Veronica groused.

“A nice cozy nap by the fire would do me right well,” Lord Robert yawned.

“Whatever Her Highness wishes,” Hendrik declared.

“Snowball fight,” Princess Jade proposed.

“Anything _not_ in the snow,” Erik countered.

“I’ve got some extra yarn and needles if anyone wants to learn how to knit!” Gemma beamed.

The Luminary was about to speak when he suddenly let out a loud sneeze and scrambled to his wardrobe for a handkerchief, waving his hand for them to continue without him.

Lord Robert stroked his mustache. “Well, by my count, that’s two votes for a snowball fight and one for each of the rest. Seems ye’ve won the day, lassie.”

“Not altogether surprising,” the princess said with a sniff.

Erik scowled and crossed his arms. “Hey, my answer could’ve counted with any of the others too, you know.”

“But ye didnae _commit_ , lad, and that’s where ye faltered.”

Hendrik cleared his throat. “Did you have any thought for the type and manner of the engagement, Princess?”

She looked around at the group. “Two teams? There are enough of us for that, at least.”

“How about boys versus girls?” Veronica suggested with a smirk. “Unless _they’re_ too afraid we’ll mop the _floor_ with them.”

“Oh, I hardly _think_ so, darling,” Sylvando drawled, still lazily flipping a playing card around his fingers. “But the numbers don’t add up—we’ve got one too many on our side!”

Lord Robert chuckled and settled further into his chair. “There’s an easy fix for that, laddie—I dinnae think my auld bones could handle being dragged out in this weather. But, rest assured I’ll be cheering ye on in my heart.”

Serena laid a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder. “Thank you, Rab,” she said sincerely, “that’s ever so kind of you.”

“Then it’s settled,” the princess decided. “Let’s get dressed.”

* * *

Shortly afterwards, they were all gathered together in the snow outside. Hendrik stamped his feet and blew on his hands, his breath fogging into the chill night air; it was not that he could ever _regret_ taking the side of a member of the royal house of Heliodor, but he _did_ wish he had at least waited to hear Princess Jade’s answer before supplying his own.

“Right, now let’s go over the rules,” she said as she looked around. A gleam of competition had entered her eyes, and Hendrik inwardly groaned at the sight.

“One,” the princess began, ticking off a gloved finger, “you can only get hit three times before you’re out of the game. Two, you have to keep moving—no hiding or waiting in ambush. Three, jumping onto rooftops is prohibited.”

She shot a pointed look at the Luminary, who shrugged sheepishly.

“Four,” she continued, “no magical tampering with the opposition. I think that should just about cover it. Any questions?” 

There was a chorus of ‘no’s, and she nodded. “Well, let’s get to our places and may the best man—or woman—win!”

Hendrik and the other men huddled on the leeward side of the house and made their necessary consultations before battle.

“It’s good snow,” Erik noted, packing a tight ball between his hands. “Just the right amount of moisture to really stick together. You’re better off making ‘em quick rather than big so you can keep a steady stream going.” The young man’s voice had become intent and his eyes flashed with determination.

“I thought you weren’t keen on this whole idea, darling,” Sylvando said with a knowing smile.

“Well, maybe, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still want to _win_ , right?”

Hendrik frowned down at the hasty sketch of the town he had drawn in the snow with a stick. “The princess will likely counsel speed in hopes of catching us off-guard. I think it best we aim to flank our opponents as they commit to their offensive, then attack from behind. Sylvando and I will approach from the north—the Luminary and Erik, the south. Understood?”

“Guess it helps we’ve got an actual, real life general on our side,” Erik remarked to the Luminary, who nodded vigorously.

There was a burst of light in the sky from Veronica’s spell, signalling the start of the match. Hendrik took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and set off to war.

He and Sylvando stole through the shadows behind the cottage, snow crunching softly beneath their boots as they went. The air seemed unnaturally crisp and their surroundings almost as bright as daylight. When they reached the shed next to the house, Hendrik motioned his fellow knight to duck onto the far side of it while he took the near. He could hear the faint sounds of at least one of the ladies beyond, and held his breath while he counted to three. Then, snowball in hand, he leapt out with a fierce cry—

—only to be pelted directly in the chest by a triumphant Serena.

“You were right, Jade!” she exclaimed delightedly. “They _did_ try to sneak up on us from behind!”

Hendrik had no time to comprehend this remark as the loud sounds of battle had begun to ring out in the night. He scrambled back out of the priestess’s reach to regroup behind the shed, his strategy in tatters around him. Sylvando he found already there with a near-identical marking of snow on his own chest.

“Shouldn’t have underestimated them, eh honey?” the man grinned at his friend.

“Clearly not,” Hendrik sighed.

He packed another snowball and prepared himself to return to the fight. Sylvando and he nodded tightly at each other, then dashed back out.

Despite the inauspicious start, Hendrik and his men quickly recovered and found themselves holding their own against the princess’s team. The knight—uncertain at first whether it went against the Pledge to assault ladies with snowballs, right up until the point when he was struck in the face by Gemma—was soon enjoying himself hugely. It brought to mind winters of years past, when he had run around the parade ground with Jasper and their fellow trainees, shouting and laughing even as they mercilessly pelted each other with snow.

There was a brief halt some minutes in for a clarification of the rules—

“Because blasting incoming snowballs with Frizz is _cheating_ , that’s why!”

“ _Cheating?_ Are you sure you’re not just jealous because some of us have _useful_ magic instead of your idiotic rooster impressions?”

—and then the battle waged on.

One by one the competitors were picked off, groans and arguments and laughter accompanying their dismissals from the fight. As chance would have it, Hendrik eventually found himself and his princess as the only remaining opponents. The stakes could not have been higher, as he knew her to have only one remaining hit left before disqualification, the same as he. The knight had confidence that he was well capable of trouncing her in a one-on-one skirmish—and then, glorious victory.

Now, if only he had any idea at all where to _find_ her.

He cautiously crept around the side of the stables, hoping the sound of the beasts within would conceal his movements. Obsidian let out a curious whinny when he spotted his master, but Hendrik put a finger to his lips and the horse settled. He squinted closely at the tracks in the snow in an attempt to determine their freshness; so consumed he was by this occupation that he nearly walked straight into Princess Jade when he rounded the corner.

They blinked at each other for one startled moment; then Hendrik leapt to the side even as she lunged for him, and the ensuing collision sent them both rolling into the snow, ammunition falling from their hands and disappearing into the white powder.

When they jerked to a stop, the princess was pressed into a snowbank with Hendrik sprawled half on top of her. He sucked in a sharp breath, his heart racing from the adrenaline as he stared down at her. Her own chest heaved and her eyes were hooded, snowflakes dotting her long lashes like tiny stars.

She was by far the most alluring, enchanting, utterly beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life, and the knight was entirely _spellbound_.

“Hendrik,” she breathed. His eyes flitted down to her lips as she spoke, riveted by their scarlet colouring in the cold air.

One of her hands went up to the back of his neck and he shivered at the coolness of wet leather on his skin. Her fingertips scraped against his scalp and left him reeling in the wake of her touch.

“P-Princess Jade,” he said in a choked voice. “I...”

The world—and, truthfully, even Hendrik himself—was never to know what he had been about to say; for the very next instant, the princess’s other hand came up and she shoved a fistful of snow directly into his face.

Hendrik jerked back, sputtering and wheezing as he fell onto his backside in the snowbank. He desperately tried to scrub his vision clean and heard the princess scramble up next to him.

“I got him!” she exulted. “We won, ladies!”

There were equal cheers and groans as the rest of the party ran to join them. The women hugged and clapped each other on the back in their celebrations, while the men despondently gathered around Hendrik.

“What the heck happened?” Erik demanded. “I thought for sure you had her!”

Hendrik lifted his shoulder in a helpless shrug as Sylvando and the Luminary hoisted him up from the ground and dusted him off.

“It’s okay, darling,” Sylvando consoled his friend. “If there’s one thing our princess is good at, it’s zeroing in on a weak point.”

“I...have come to understand this,” Hendrik agreed hoarsely.

He found himself barely able to meet her gaze as they all walked back to the cottage, chattering and teasing and recounting their favourite parts of the battle. They returned to find Lord Robert beaming proudly with an entire pot full of hot cocoa bubbling on the stove before him. The group passed out mugs and settled before the fire as they filled the former king in on their escapades.

“Sounds like a fine auld time all-around,” the man said afterwards, nestling down in his chair. “But ye’d best get off that wet winter clothing before ye catch chill. Just hang them up in the shed and we’ll get my grandson to Sizz them before morning.”

“Your _grandson?_ ” Veronica sputtered. “Only if you want decorative _singes_ on all your clothes. Honestly!”

“Oh, give it a rest for once,” Erik yawned, reluctantly lifting his head off the Luminary’s shoulder. He stood and hauled an indignant Veronica up by her cap as the group rose and made their way towards the door.

Gemma paused at the doorway. “Aren’t you coming, Sir Hendrik?”

“I will yet remain a time,” he replied, his large hands dwarfing the mug he cupped. The girl disappeared through the door and the room went to silence, only the crackle and pop of the fire to be heard.

“Does something trouble ye, lad?” Lord Robert asked after a minute.

Hendrik shook his head. “No, my lord. That is—yes, my lord. I...truthfully, I am uncertain.”

“Hm.” The former king scratched at his head underneath the red cap he wore. “It doesnae have aught to do with Jade’s present, does it? She seemed right pleased from what _I_ could tell.”

“She was. I could not have asked for a more heartfelt response.” Hendrik sighed a deep, pensive sigh. “But I must confess that even after such months of our quest _and_ her return to Heliodor, I...I yet do not understand her.”

The knight was startled by a burst of laughter from the old man. “Oh, my lad, _that_ willnae change much in the coming years. These women—incomprehensible to the last, I tell ye.”

It was not an entirely _reassuring_ answer, but it did give Hendrik something to think on. Perhaps it was not his place to understand his future queen; perhaps he was meant only to anticipate her wishes and abide by them.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by the party’s trooping back into the room, now divested of their wet garments.

“You shouldn’t be sitting around in those, Hendrik,” Serena immediately scolded him. “I only carry so many sneezing cures with me, you know.”

“Forgive me,” he apologized. “I shall remove them at once.”

The night air had turned even colder as he stamped through the snow to the nearby shed. Cloaks, capes, hats, and gloves lay haphazardly hung up the inside of the building and it took him some moments to find a gap to place his own.

When Hendrik reached up to fasten his cloak to a beam, he spotted something discordant attached further along the wooden post. He frowned and moved directly underneath it to spy...

A sprig of mistletoe.

However it came to be in the shed, he could not account for; perhaps the Luminary’s mother used them as decoration for the holidays. Moreover, it looked oddly _familiar_ to his eye, almost as if it were the same—but no, that was surely impossible. 

“Is something the matter?” came a voice from behind him.

He whirled to see Princess Jade in the doorway, one hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised. The door shut softly behind her as she joined him in the middle of the shed. 

“No, I was merely puzzled as to the provenance of _this_ ,” he replied, pointing up to it. “A most curious place for mistletoe.”

Under any other circumstances he might have been concerned over his standing underneath the foliage; but at least here, with his steadfast ally by his side, he could be in no danger. He looked down at his princess in hopes that she could provide some answer for him.

“Very curious,” she agreed. “It’s almost as if someone deliberately _placed_ it there.”

“Indeed. But who would—”

The words caught in his throat when Princess Jade turned toward him with a strange gleam in her eyes. He sucked in a sharp breath as she took one deliberate step closer and her hand reached up to slip again to the back of his neck. She tugged him down with a firm hold and he helplessly followed, hunching over to meet her gaze.

“Princess,” he whispered, his mind a jumble of scattered confusion. “What...whatever do you mean by this?”

“Did anyone manage to catch you beneath the mistletoe this year, Hendrik?” she asked, breath puffing against his lips. Her violet eyes were hooded as she looked up at him through her long lashes.

“No, I...I do not _believe_ so,” he gasped, unable to definitively confirm his own _name_ with the reality of her lovely face mere inches from his own.

She smiled then, and his gaze snapped down to her mouth. “Well, it’d be a shame to go the entire Solstice season without at least _one_ kiss, wouldn’t it?”

And before he could even parse her words let alone respond to them, she pushed up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

Her mouth was cool and slightly chapped against his own, but Hendrik could only think—if he were still capable of thought, which was a concept heavily in doubt at that moment—of how soft it was, how perfectly formed, how utterly _enthralling_ as her hold tightened around his neck and she pulled him closer.

Without even knowing what he was about, his arm hesitantly came up to wrap around her waist; she made a murmur of approval and deepened the kiss in return. He sighed against those enchanting lips, his eyes squeezing shut as he forgot about Cobblestone, Heliodor, the Solstice, the mistletoe—all but the feel of her mouth against his and the slide of her fingers in his hair.

Eventually— _mournfully_ —the princess broke the kiss and pulled away. Hendrik was staggered to see her no less affected than himself, her breath panting through her parted lips and her eyes gone dark. His own pulse raced inside his chest and he felt the heat of the brilliant flush on his skin.

“P-Princess,” he murmured. It seemed there should be a _thousand_ things he might say after such a momentous occurrence, but he could think of precisely none of them. Princess Jade’s lips curved upwards at his tongue-tied stupor.

“Some things never change, Hendrik,” she said in a low voice. “But others...very much _do_.”

With that, she let her hand fall from his neck, turned, and left the shed without another look back.

Hendrik stared after her for a very long time, his hands clenched into tight fists and his breathing stuttered. His thoughts were impossible to wrangle into coherence, but one eventually floated to the surface, rising to prominence above all others.

_Anticipate her wishes, and abide by them._ Suddenly his pursuance of that course seemed simpler—and infinitely more thrilling—than he ever could have imagined.

He shook his head and took a moment to straighten his tabard before he strode out into the snow-swept night toward the warm, homey cabin beyond.

* * *

When Hendrik later learned that the payout for the mistletoe betting pool had resulted in the delivery of chocolate mousse to the royal dining table for two straight weeks, he chose not to make an issue of it. Perhaps the princess had been correct; there _was_ no real harm in gambling.


End file.
